


Every Little Thing

by trashwriter



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alpha Hunk (Voltron), Alpha Pidge | Katie Holt, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Lance (Voltron) is a Good Friend, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Morning Sex, Mpreg, Omega Keith (Voltron), Omega Lance (Voltron), Oral Sex, Pregnancy, Sex, Timeline What Timeline, Unplanned Pregnancy, chapter one is sfw, chapter two features, it was meant to be amusing and smutty and then it grew feels, midnight cravings, pregnancy reveal, this week on i didn't know i was pregnant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-05 00:59:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16357586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashwriter/pseuds/trashwriter
Summary: Lying on his side the curve is more obvious and the sight of Hunk’s palm resting over that gentle slope makes his heart flutter.Maybe Lance is right. Maybe everything will be fine.





	1. Chapter 1

It’s the middle of the Castleship’s designated sleep cycle, and Hunk is a large, warm, snoring weight in his bed. Keith really cannot stress how emphatically he does not want to move. But. His stomach is insisting that they are starving to death. 

 

Keith tries to ignore it, squeezing his eyes more firmly shut and concentrating on the decadent warmth and the scent of sleepy contented alpha. He starts to nod off. But. His ridiculous brain reminds him at exactly the wrong moment that there’s space bread in the kitchen. And all of a sudden he needs it. 

 

He rolls over and muffles a groan into his pillow, but he knows from recent experience that his body will not be ignored and if he wants to do anything except strain against his own willpower and obsess over the space bread for the rest of the night he needs to execute a bread retrieval mission. 

 

Decision made, however reluctantly, he gently wiggles out from under Hunk’s arm and pads across the room on tiptoe, scooping a sweater up from the floor on his way out. 

 

The sweater is Hunk’s, so it completely dwarf’s Keith’s compact frame and is stained with what is either food goo or engine grease at the hem, but it covers more skin than just Keith’s t-shirt and boxer-briefs and it smells like Hunk which makes it ideal for this late-night foray. 

 

The floors of the Castleship are freezing on his bare feet and he minces down the hallways on tiptoe.

 

The lights are on in the kitchen and Keith isn’t surprised to see that it’s Lance, fully decked out in his pajamas and Blue Lion slippers. Lately whenever he can’t sleep because he’s too hungry to concentrate Lance is also in the kitchen experimenting with food goo. 

 

Lance has the space bread out on a platter and is spreading the pseudo-chocolate food goo directly on a slice, rolling it into a burrito and shoving most of the roll directly into his face. 

 

It’s disgusting. 

 

Keith wants it. 

 

“Share,” he demands, or possibly begs, depending on who you want to believe. 

 

Lance waves him off.

 

“Cut your own.”

 

Keith does. Thick doughy slices that he pulls apart and starts dipping into the bowl of goo. It’s exactly perfect. He can admit it in the privacy of his own head Lance has the best ideas sometimes. 

 

Very rarely. But sometimes. 

 

“Midnight cravings are such a bitch,” Lance whines, assembling bread-goo burrito. “I just want to sleep!”

 

“Mmm,” Keith agrees.

 

He holds out a fist to his fellow omega because he was only prepared to show solidarity if his mouth can be full at the same time. 

 

Lance’s boney knuckles knock against his. 

 

“I vote that Pidge and Hunk should be on overnight duty for at least nine months after the little quiznacks are born. It’s only fair.”

 

Keith makes another agreeable noise before he realises that...that sentence doesn’t make sense when he replay’s it in his brain.

 

He swallows around a thick bite of goo-soaked bread, clearing his throat.  

 

“Wait, what?”

 

Lance shrugs, “I mean it’s not that weird, right? I’m sure Hunk can rig us a breast pump or something, and it’s not like they don’t already stay up on engineering binges every other week. This way maybe some of that incredible genius rubs off on our offspring.”

 

Offspring?  _ Breast pumps _ ?

 

“You’re pregnant?” Keith blurts. 

 

Lance arches an eyebrow at him, “No I just really love drippy, soggy, goo-covered space-bread. Come on, man!”

 

Keith glances down at his space bread. A little piece dripping with goo drops off to land on the back of his thumb. The colour and texture is similar to snot. Objectively, it’s pretty gross. But it tastes _ so good _ .

 

Wait. 

 

“You think I’m pregnant?” 

 

Lance turns to face him fully and he has that face. The one that makes it clear why he and Pidge are mates. It’s a unique combination of condescension and flabbergasted disbelief. 

 

“Keith, my dude, buddy, pal, mullet of my life, entiendeme bien,” he says, “You’re so,  _ so _ pregnant.”

 

Keith frowns. There’s no way he’s pregnant. He would definitely know something like that before Lance.

 

“You can’t  _ know _ that.”

 

Lance throws his hands up, “We’re on the exact same cycle! We haven’t had a heat in five phoebs. We probably conceived on the same damn quintant.”

 

Keith crosses his arms, “I’m irregular sometimes, it’s just stress!”

 

“Keith, you have a proper ass now, and look” Lance insists, yanking up the hem of his t-shirt, “Your abs are  _ convex _ !”

 

Keith frowns at his abdomen critically.

 

It is true. The space between his hip bones isn’t exactly rounded but it definitely curves outwards and his jeans have been getting pretty tight. But he’s written that off as the natural consequence of this late-night snacking that he and Lance have been doing. 

 

“Why did you think we started sending Pidge out with the Blade instead of you? Or, hey, why did you think I made you help me break into that creepy abandoned Galra lab for that one scanner thing?”

 

Keith had assumed that Lance was collecting the scanner for Pidge, actually. And as for the Blade missions, well, Pidge was a better hacker than anyone in the known universe, sending her on data retrieval missions just made good tactical sense. 

 

But now that he was thinking about it…

 

“I’m  _ pregnant _ ?”

 

“Dios, dame fuerzas,  _ yes _ !” Lance pauses for a second and then blinks at him, going a bit pale, “You really didn’t realize?”

 

Keith doesn’t know what to say. Now that the logical conclusion has been laid out for him it seems obvious, but he’d written off a hundred little things over the last five months as being a result of a cold, or over-training or a strenuous mission or being in space. 

 

He’d never once taken all those little telltale signs and even idly considered that he might be pregnant. 

 

He hovers a hand over his abdomen. It’s warm under his fingers. 

 

He doesn’t feel any different than he did a moment ago. But. He could very possibly, be pregnant.

 

“Do you know how to operate that scanner thing?” he asks. 

 

Lance flushes a bit, “Yeah,” he admits, “I had Pidge show me. I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night and listening to the heart beat.”

 

Keith blinks, because, wow, Lance is glowing with happy, satisfied omega pheromones and resting his hand gently on his abdomen. And now that he’s thinking about it he’s definitely been doing that more often. And Pidge has been radiating smug satisfaction for weeks. 

 

“Come on,” Lance demands, stretching and getting to his feet, “Let’s go now while no one’s in the med bay.”

 

Keith allows himself to be towed through the Castleship and settled onto an exam table. Lance pats at him like he expects Keith to protest or try to escape but, honestly, his mind is too busy to worry about being a pain in Lance’s ass. His brain is spinning as it frantically cross-references the evidence. He wonders how the quiznack he’s supposed to explain this to Hunk, let alone Allura. If Lance is right, one way or another they’re going to be down two frontline Paladins for a few phoebs. 

 

“Okay, here we go!” Lance declares producing the scanner and a tube of lubricant gel that’s already more than halfway empty. “Lie back and lift up your shirt.”

 

Keith eyes the scanner. It looks like a cross between a kitchen implement and an old-style discman and when Lance pushes a button it whirs softly and glows with soft lilac light. 

 

“You’re sure you know how to use that thing?”

 

“What, you don’t trust me?” teases Lance.

 

“I trust you, it’s Galra tech I don’t trust.”

 

“Relax Mullet, Pidge vetted it and I’ve used it on myself enough times to be sure. Nothing hinky is going to happen.”

 

Keith isn’t really reassured but he lies back and lifts his shirt anyway. 

 

It’s uncomfortable. 

 

The gel is cold and Keith is pretty sure Lance is using too much of it, and the scanner hovers over his abdomen chirping and beeping while it bathes the area is that same soft purple glow. Eventually the device lets out a final beep and a holoscreen materializes above it.

 

It looks a little like a traditional ultrasound in that Keith can see all the various blobs and squooshes of his abdominal cavity in shades of grey, black and purple, it’s just a lot clearer. Say what you want about the Galra empire, they’ve got excellent image quality. 

 

Keith reaches up and tugs the hologram closer. 

 

“Is that a head?” he asks Lance, from what feels like very far away. 

 

“Yep,” agrees Lance, tracing the outline of the tiny cranium from the other side of the image, “And there’s the hand.”

 

Keith can see it, the shadow of a fist. He’s a little dizzy.

 

“Well...huh.”

 

Lance rocks back on his heels, “Like a said. Very pregnant.” And then, more gently, “Are you okay?” 

 

Keith contemplates the image on the holoscreen. Inside his uterus his offspring shifts, and even though Keith can see them doing it he still doesn’t feel anything. But there is undoubtedly a wriggling little fetus inside him.

 

“That’s a big head,” he says, faintly, unable to come up with anything better. 

 

“Yeah, I try not to think about that part,” Lance says, wrinkling his nose. 

 

Usually Keith has a kind of aesthetic envy for Lance’s lean, svelte body. Today he’s glad he has wide flaring hips, a high pain tolerance and a half-Galra constitution. 

 

Lance flicks off the scanner. Worrying his lower lip between his teeth as he hands Keith a towel to wipe up the gel.

 

Keith wipes half-heartedly at the mess, lying back against the table. 

 

“Do you know anything about babies?” Keith asks, a little desperately, because he emphatically does not know anything except what was taught in health class. 

 

“A bit yeah,” Lance says, “I was around when my sister-in-law was pregnant and helped out a lot when Sylvio and Nadia were little. But, look, Keith, man, we’ll figure it out, okay?”

 

“Right.”

 

“Right,” Lance repeats, more firmly, “We’re Paladins of Voltron and kickass omegas and we have each other and the most wonderful mates of all time.”

 

Keith nods, because all that is objectively true. 

 

“It’s gonna be fine,” Lance insists. 

 

Keith nods again, more slowly, and puts his hand back on his abdomen. It’s sticky from the gel. He still doesn’t feel anything from the...baby.

 

“Are you gonna be fine?” Lance asks, touching his wrist, “Cause, I mean, we all thought you knew...it’s a little late but if you don’t...there’s, like, options you know? Hunk won’t mind if you’re not ready.”

 

Keith can feel his brow furrowing. 

 

It’s not that he doesn’t want kids, because he does. Or that the timing isn’t ideal, cause frankly it’s never going to be ideal, because the Galra Empire is huge and well-rooted into the universe and they’re going to be fighting this war for the rest of their natural lives. Or that he isn’t ready, which, well, he isn’t, but he figures that’s not exactly uncommon with a first-time parent. It’s just--

 

“I didn’t think I could get pregnant,” he admits. “I gave up on it when I found out for sure I was half-Galra. Scrapped even the idea of it and that was that. Hybrids are almost always infertile, I was trying to figure out a way to tell Hunk.”

 

“Well...now you don’t have to do that?” suggests Lance. 

 

“Guess not,” Keith agrees. 

 

He levers himself up off the exam table, and winces when he bare feet hit the floor. He waits a moment but the dizziness is less about headrush and more about too many panicked, disjointed thoughts all trying to make themselves heard. 

 

“I am going back to sleep,” he declares. “It’s too early for any of this.”

 

“Alright,” Lance says, “Do you want me to walk with you?”

 

His eyes twitch over to the scanner and it makes Keith quirk a smile. If he’s very pregnant, Lance is very, very pregnant. 

 

“I’m good, I just need to switch my brain off,” he tells the other omega. “Do you mind cleaning up?”

 

“Sure thing, mullet, go cuddle up with that big Hunk of lovin’, I got this.”

 

Keith hears the scanner powering up before the med-bay doors have even swished closed behind him. 

 

He wanders back to bed and curls himself back into his spot against Hunk’s firm chest. Hunk rumbles a sleepy noise at him and tucks him back under his arm one big hand splayed out over his stomach. 

 

Lying on his side the curve is more obvious and the sight of Hunk’s palm resting over that gentle slope makes his heart flutter. 

 

Maybe Lance is right. Maybe everything will be fine. 


	2. Chapter 2

  
  


Keith wakes up to Hunk shifting around and the soft chime that announces the start of the day-cycle on the Castleship. Their very own dawn chorus. 

 

He’s still tired, he’s never not-tired nowadays, but he’s more just horny. The slide of the silky synthetic sheets over his mostly bare legs sending sparks of gentle pleasure fizzing along his nerve-endings. 

 

“Morning, gorgeous,” murmurs Hunk, nuzzling against the skin behind his jaw were the scent glands make his skin thin and sensitive, “Good dreams?”

 

“Mmmm,” Keith agrees, arching into the warm weight of him. 

 

Hunk slides his hand down between his thighs and Keith spreads his knees basking in the decadent feeling of that big hand over his sex. 

 

“Must’ve been really, really good dreams. Jeez, you’re soaked,” Hunk says, low and breathless. 

 

Keith hums another agreement, not really feeling up to verbal just yet. He can feel the gush of new slick between his thighs the warm wet slide of it against his sex and the throb of his cock against even the slight pressure and friction of Hunk’s hand. He rolls his hips just enough for Hunk to get the message and then lies back while Hunk peels his slick-soaked underwear down his legs and rucks up his sleep shirt. 

 

Hunk sits back to just look, his lower lip caught between his teeth and Keith arches a little more; unselfconscious under his openly admiring gaze. Keith honestly didn’t think he could get any slicker but when Hunk makes an involuntary noise he feels himself twitch and drip. 

 

“You look so good, babe,” Hunk tells him, staring unabashedly at his hole. He bites down hard on his lower lip, and squeezes his cock through his shorts, “So, so good.”

 

Keith thinks for a moment he might have to bestir himself so that Hunk will stop admiring and start doing something, but after another squeeze Hunk takes a deep breath, and leans down to lick a sloppy stripe from his slick folds up to the tip of his throbbing cock. 

 

Keith tries to squirm into the sensation, tries to chase that heat and pressure, but Hunk holds him down easily, pinning one folded knee to the mattress and easing the other up over his thickly muscled shoulder. 

 

He’s spread wide, open and vulnerable, and it’s so easy with Hunk. Easy to let himself be that vulnerable, to lie back and trust that his mate will take care of him. 

 

Hunk pushes down with just a little force, pinning Keith so that he can’t squirm too much. 

 

“Oh, fuck, please!” Keith pants. 

 

He’s not really sure what he’s begging for, just for any kind of touch really, he knows that Hunk will fold like a cheap suit at the first hint of a request. 

 

And sure enough, Hunk breathes something that sounds like it might be his name and eases two fingers into the slick heat between his legs. And then, with a helpless curse adds a third. 

 

“Hah, yes!” Keith gasps. 

 

Those thick fingers curl inside him and dig into the sensitive ridges of muscle and nerve endings that makes him see stars when Hunk knots him, and Keith rolls his hips into the contact. 

 

“God, fuck, god,” Hunk stammers, “You’re so--”

 

He cuts himself off with a low noise and leans down to pull the head of Keith’s cock into his hot perfect mouth, digging the point of his tongue into the slit for a moment before sliding down the shaft to bury his nose into the curling hair at the base.  

 

Keith makes a noise. It’s loud enough that if there are people in the hall they can probably hear him, and if he could feel anything but the sharp, white burn of pleasure he might be embarrassed. 

 

But Hunk is swallowing around his length and letting Keith roll his hips up and fuck his mouth, a low pleased alpha rumble vibrating between them and adding another dimension to the incredible stimulation. 

 

Keith fights to open his eyes and focus, and when he does he can’t stop the cry that bubbles up out of his chest. 

 

Because Hunk looks so good; huge and strong with his bulk and warm dark skin a sharp contrast to Keith’s long pale limbs.

 

He hopes he’ll bruise where Hunk’s using his body weight to press his knee into the mattress. 

 

He thrusts hard into the back of Hunk’s throat listening to his mate choke and swallow and moan at the the sensation. He’s going to come he can feel it starting as his sex flutters around Hunk’s fingers trying to clamp down on a knot that isn’t there. 

 

And that burns too, that empty ache, it burns so much that it’s almost satisfying. Hunk makes a noise around his dick, his grip tightening on Keith’s knee, and Keith fists his hands in Hunk’s hair and gives one more stuttering thrust, burying his cock as deep as it will go and spilling down his throat. 

 

And when the aftershocks roll through him he doesn’t pull away. Instead Keith bears down on Hunk’s crooked fingers and holds him by the neck as he gasps for air as best he can and slurps around his over-sensitive dick. 

 

Hunk coughs a bit when he finally pulls out, sucking in deep harsh breaths. 

 

“Holy shit, Keith,” he says, his voice gravelly and rough, “Fuck, I gotta--”

 

He doesn’t bother trying to take his shorts off, just shoves them down far enough that they hook behind his balls. His knot is fully popped, and Keith takes a moment to be proud of himself for being able to take that because it is not small. 

 

Hunk squeezes one big hand around himself, tight and merciless and presses the fat head against the plump curve of Keith’s inner thigh as he starts to come. 

 

It really is one of the hottest things Keith has ever seen. Usually he’s too busy writhing on that knot to appreciate it, but the look on Hunk’s face, the bulge of his muscles and hot pulse of come that slides down his leg is enough to make him arch and gasp as a belated aftershock rolls through him.

Hunk rumbles at him for moving and pushes down on his knee again as another thick pulse is rubbed into the dips of his abs. 

 

Keith whines, a submissive omega noise that he only ever makes in bed, and as Hunk moans an answer another thick splatter of come drips out over Keith’s cock and hole. 

 

He almost wishes he were in heat for a second so that they could have the stamina to go another ten rounds just like this. Hunk so rarely wants to get him messy, but when he does this it never fails to make Keith wish that he would never stop coming. Of course, when Keith’s actually in heat they barely ever unknot. 

 

With a low groan Hunk releases the white knuckled grip he has on his knot and slumps to the side,  flopping down next to Keith. 

 

Keith’s thighs tremble when he shifts his hips closed and slides a hand through the mess pooled between his thighs with a sigh that reeks of self-satisfaction, plastering himself against Hunk’s side. 

 

A steady stream of come dribbles from Hunk’s cockhead without the pressure against his knot and Hunk pumps his shaft with a pleased noise of his own, playing with his balls as the aftershocks make him shake and shudder. 

 

Keith sides his own fingers back into his hole pressing mercilessly until he comes again in another hot gush of slick, cock twitching but spent. 

 

“Holy shit we’re good at this,” Hunk says, laughing. 

 

His voice is a bit gravelly from Keith’s rough treatment but Keith knows that he doesn’t mind. And if he wasn’t sure, well, the way Hunk adds: “A-plus throat fucking by the way.” And holds up one sticky hand for a fistbump would reassure him. 

 

It does reassure him, actually, ‘cause he never wants the hurt Hunk but it the heat of the moment sometimes they can get carried away. 

 

“Thanks,” Keith murmurs, knocking his knuckles against Hunk’s and snuggling even closer. 

 

“How’s your knee?”

 

Keith moves his leg to test the joint, it’s a bit sore but he’s had worse kicking around gladiators on the training deck, “It’s fine. Good. I hope it bruises.”

 

Hunk groans and laughs in the same breath, low and loud, and he thumbs over the head of his cock as another long string of come slides into the mess between his legs. 

 

“One of these days you’re gonna be too hot post-orgasm and the effort of trying to produce more come is literally going to kill me,” he says, dropping a quick kiss onto the top of Keith’s head. “It’ll be like a heart attack, but in my dick. I’m already like ninety percent sure the amount of dopamine in my brain should be a lethal concentration.”

 

“Words,” Keith complains. 

 

Hunk laughs again, it’s the best sound.

 

“Sorry babe,” he says. “I just want you to know how hot you are.”

 

He strokes a hand over his flank rubbing soothing circles into the crease of his hip and belly where Keith can just barely detect the slight curve of his expanding uterus underneath the bumps and ridges of muscle. 

 

Keith sighs happily, loopy and relaxed and conscious of every satisfied, humming cell in his post-coital body. 

 

And then he feels it, a barely there flutter, like the dappling of fingers against his stomach but from the inside. It’s like bubbles popping under his skin and he wouldn’t even have noticed it if her wasn’t so deep in the sensation of his body. 

 

Slowly, afraid to scare them off, Keith puts a hand over the spot where the sensation is concentrated. 

 

There’s nothing to feel on the outside of his skin, but inside…

 

“Babe?” asks Hunk, rubbing a thumb over his shoulder, “You okay?”

 

“Hunk,” Keith breathes, “I’m  _ pregnant _ .”

 

Hunk grins, “Hell yeah, you are.” He kisses Keith warmly on the mouth, “Does this mean I can stop pretending not to notice now?”

Keith gapes at him, “You knew?”

 

Hunk arches a brow at him, “Keith, babe, I’m your mate, I sleep in your bed. Even if I wasn’t and alpha and couldn’t smell the change in our hormones, fact is: you haven’t had a heat in months, and no offense but I don’t think you have enough biochemistry experience to synthesize suppressants from whatever we’ve got on the Castleship.”

 

“Did everybody know but me?” pouts Keith, “It’s my body, I should be the first one to know!”

 

“Wait,” Hunk blanches, “You didn’t know? You’ve been pregnant for ages! You’re more than halfway through your gestation!”

 

“It’s not that obvious!”

 

“Oh, quiznak!  _ Keith _ ,” Hunk turns him around, touches their foreheads together, and promptly starts babbling, “Babe, I--I’m so sorry! I thought you just weren’t ready to tell me, like some sort of possessive omega carrier-child bonding thing you didn’t want me butting in on, or you knew that I knew, or something. If I had realized--okay, it’s late but you still have options, okay? If you’re not ready or--or you don’t want--”

 

Keith cuts him off with a palm over his mouth but it takes his motormouth mate another few seconds to trail off.

 

“Hey, it’s fine,” he says, “I want it. I want it.”

 

As he says it he realizes that it’s true. He wants it with a fierce ache that he hasn’t allowed himself to feel since he accepted that he would probably never have biological kids.  

 

“We’re gonna have a baby.”

 

Hunk’s lower lip wobbles, and his eyes mist over as he buries his face in Keith’s neck. 

 

“Hell yeah we are.”

 

Hunk’s hand splays big and warm over his belly and the baby, their baby makes that popping bubbles sensation slide over his insides. 

 

“Hey there,” Keith says to his own middle. “You feel that? That’s your daddy.”

 

Hunk really does burst into tears at that, pressing wet kisses against Keith’s neck and face and murmuring watery “I love yous” over and over again. 

 

Keith on the other hand can’t stop smiling, everything is fine. Better than fine, everything is perfect. 

**Author's Note:**

> I got askbox prompted this bad boy probably more than a year ago and am just rolling around to it now because I couldn't figure out how to make telling someone you're pregnant sexy and also because I am just like that unfortunately
> 
> hope you all enjoy and please feel free to tell me what you think in the comments below!
> 
> also feel free to hit me up with your own fic requests on tumblr [here](https://vld-spacepolys.tumblr.com/ask)


End file.
